Revolt
by writerauthordude1
Summary: Althalos was once a great general, but he was framed for a crime he did not commit by the prince of the Empire he fights for. Starting a uprising of slaves and gladiators, the sable seeks revenge. T might go to M Please review . :)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Far away from Mossflower , in the cold rocky lands of Islands of the North, an army of vermin fights under the banner of Emperor Shroud and the Empire of Zann. They were known as the Army of Deathbringers. Spreading like a scourge, the army conquered, ravaged, pillaged and enslaved countless regions near the peninsula it started from. The empire was founded by twin brothers name Zin and Zann, two evil pine marten's and slowly rose from humble beginnings in the Peninsula of Zann. With a rich history of slavery, war and turmoil. Most of their leader's were driven insane, or assassinated by family members and politicians. The conquest of the land's of nearest to them was not enough. Fuelled by rich farming and a strong economy , the army flourished into a living demon bent on carnage and chaos. The elite guard named The Black Hand guards the emperor and the main army travels and pillages. Now the current emperor chose to travel to the Northern Islands but unbeknownst to anyone but him and his conspirators, he loathes a general and plans on framing him for a murder.

* * *

Snow, the silent invader, swirled through the frigid northern air. The wind howled and cut like a knife. Footpaws squelching in the cold, wet mud Fleetnose and Scareye the stoat messenger's grumbled and cursed under their breaths. Being chosen by a captain, just because they were near by to inform a group of rats living in a pine forest that the Army of Deathbringers will slay them all if they dare fight back.

"Rotten luck I tells ye, tis' cold and damp out here and that damned captain, wot's his name... Ye, Vizk, that's it. Vizk kicks our poor bloody tails outta the camp. I swear someday imma going to kill him." grumbled Fleetnose.

"Aye," Replied his companion, "the bastard was jus' doing it to impress the emperor, I swear on me mum's grave he'll be dead afore the day's done. But lissen here mate, we sit tight an' finish this whole messaging lot and then we can go back to the fire, all warm an' cosy. We eat, and then we plots how we gonna kill 'im." he sniggered.

They kept walking and followed the muddy path through the dark pine trees, which consisted mostly of dead boughs and trees. Keeping their heads low, their teeth clattered and frost lined their whiskers. Unused to the frigid temperatures, as they were from a warm region in the South. Scareye rubbed his paws together and pulled out a ration pack.

"Aye, mate. I brought us sum drinks to warm us up" winked the stoat, as he slugged back the wine " brought this lot all the way from the ship, swiped it I did. "

They passed the bottle back and forth 'till it was empty. Trudging along some more and comfortably drunk, the duo reached a large group of houses.

The stout, small huts were made of mud and straw and were arranged in a rough semicircle. Not seeing a soul, the two of them still continued their jobs. Fleetnose held up a long spear with a flag on it, depicting a shield with a fang in the middle and lightning bolts on the sides. It was purely black and and the figures on it were bright yellow. Scareye carried a sword but instead he drew a scroll. Taking a breath and steadying himself from the wine. He boomed:

" Barbarians of the North, bow to the Empire of Zann and the Army of Deathbringers, ruled by Lord Shroud, Son of Tareal and Morgoroth. If you do not wholly, and fully comply and set down your arms, we will slay all your men, rape your women, enslave your children, burn your dwellings, take your valuables- Urkhh!" Scareye the stoat's eyes widened as he stared at the spear protruding from his chest in a widening circle of blood.

He looked at the spear, then at his companion and then the spear and laughed weakly. The alcohol numbed most of the pain but it did not stop him from suffering his inevitable death. Fleetnose stared at his messmate's lifeless body and stood gawking for several seconds before turning and drunkenly stumbling away. He was swiftly hit in the shoulder with a spear that tore the ligaments and sinew, and shattered several bones as well. Almost instantly a arrow thudded wetly into his throat.

Miraculously, he survived all this and fell to the ground, staining the bright white with scarlet blood. Holding on to his counciousness, the stoat stared at a huge hulking form approaching him and the figure was followed by hundreds of others. Fleetnose attempted to yell but his throat was clogged with his own blood and all that came out was a wet gurgle.

Rorthan the barbarian Chieftain was a cannibal and so was most of his following. Seeing that Fleetnose would make a great meal and allow him the element of surprise he slung the dying stoat on to a cart and ordered his army to follow.

* * *

Arrows were notched, spears were readied, swords were cleaned and shields prepared in the opposing army's camp. Sharpened stakes were shoved into the ground and sacks of sand were used as makeshift covers for the archers. Althalos, a tall sinewy sable, was a general in the Army of Deathbringers. Standing out in any crowd the sable was very handsome and possessed sleek black fur, almond shaped brown eyes, a tan throat and undertone and curled, perfumed whiskers. His beauty was partially butchered by a long diagonal scar that ran from his forehead to his bottom lip. He wore light chainmail armor and a tough, red tunic beneath it. A short sword hung from his belt and a coat of furs hung from his shoulders to shield him from the cold. He glanced gloomily at the treeline of the pine forest waiting for his messengers to return. He spat into the mud and walked to his lieutenant and second in command. Crassus was a short,but strong young weasel with a reddish brown coat and the same outfit as Althalos, save the elegant furs. Crassus was intelligent and was a preference for future general. He saluted with his sword quickly and said,

" Zounds, when are those two bastard stoats going to return? Been two hours since they've been gone. Should we mount the attack now sirrah?" Turning expectantly to the sable. Althalos pensively stroked his chin and said,

"Have the foot soldiers ready and the missile unit in formation. I need you to take forty-two strong soldiers with you and go to the eastern side of the forest. Be quiet when you reach there and then you shall send a group to scout the forest for signs of the enemy. I shall do the same and then we can mount a wedge attack and flank the bastards. Tell that fox, Vizk to take the front with the remaining lot. I'll wager that they already killed the stoats and are marching forward this instant. I can here 'em too" Althalos tuned his ears to pick up the nearing sounds of a war chant and shouting. " Alright their coming, do as your told my lieutenant. Swiftly now !"

The sable turned and picked a good group of fighters and signaled them to follow.

Fifteen archers and twenty five foot soldiers each wielding a javelin for throwing, a short sword and a small dagger with a shield for close quarters and two carrying the standards of the army. Silently they trailed the barbarians from their village, where they found the mangled and feasted on remains of Scareye and his head on a stick. Urging his comrades on, Althalos took point to improve morale. They stopped and moved the side of the path when the spotted the barbarian horde. They were a disgusting sight. Most were naked, but the few who were dressed wore nothing but fur kilts.. The forty strong fighting force, originating primarily from warm regions were amazed at how the rats could withstand the fierce cold and bitter winds. The savage rats were all tall and well built, covered in tatoos of blue ink and carrying brutish spears, primitive bows and long iron swords. Most were heavily disfigured from generations of inbreeding, one rat even had a horn growing out of his forehead. The Zannian general addressed his soldiers. Issuing orders,

"Alright the damned lot are right here, don't worry and jus' stick to the plan. If any of youse tries to run away, I'll gut yer mangey hide and murder your family." The sable joked, earning a couple chuckles from the fighters." We ain't here to lose, alright? These bastards are nothing to us, we're all seasoned warriors here, ready to die for the mighty god Tareal. Now get yourselves in formation. Scumscale, take your archers and head to their east flank" The weasel saluted smartly and collected his charge "Ravennose, take the javelin throwers with Scumscale. An' the rest of you follow me." He said drawing his short blade.

* * *

Out on the front, Vizk the fox lieutenant stood staring at the lone rat standing on a mound of snow and dead trees. Sneering he addressed the huge rat. Vizk was large for a weasel, but the this great hulking rodent was almost double his size. He held a large axe in one paw and a kilt of fur around his waist . Crisscrossed with tattoos and cuts the rat stared at the weasel. Then the silence was broken by Vizk.

"Wot do ye want you scum? Can't you tell you've been conquered?" He laughed. To this the rat yelled,

"Lissen here you mangey son of a bitch, I'll murder you myself, I'll kill everyone one of you and stick your head onto a spear." Spitting on the ground, the enraged bilge rat continued " I dare you to fight us, we'll teach you lot a thing er' two 'bout fighting. Tchah, The Army of Deathbringers, don't make me laugh. Your own soldiers are getting drunk just to get picked off by my Doomclaws."

Holding up the stoat messenger, Fleetnose. Who was on the verge of death, the savage rat took a massive bite out of his throat to punctuate this. Dark blood splashed onto the face of Rorthan the Rat as he tore the helpless stoat's throat open. Drinking the blood he lapped up errant drops with his long, raked tongue he smiled wickedly and kicked the dead body into a ditch. Howling at the sky he yelled

" Chargeeee, Doomclawssssssss!" And two hundred rats poured out like a swarm of locusts , yelling and howling like the damned. In return hundreds of volleys of arrows flew into the air and thudded into the charging forms, javelins whistled and pounded mercilessly into their targets. But the barbarian archers returned fire and several foot soldiers were slain in seconds. The remaining four hundred were rallied to stage a full frontal assault and Vizk drew his cutlass and charged,

" Deathbringerssss, Killll !"

He was echoed by the vermin in his command as metal flashed and clanged in the frigid morning air. While this was happening a sentry perched high up in a tree waved a red bandanna signalling Althalos and Crassus's forces to charge.

* * *

The general Althalos was a clever tactician but used a simple technique. Using a wedge attack. The front was taken by a fighter who lead a triangle shaped group behind him, hence the "wedge" then they charged into the side of the enemy ranks. They threw their javelins into the opposing force when Althalos swished his sword downwards. The sable roared at his legionaries

" Alright, charge through and swipe with your swords, keep the shields up! Javelins, archers, Fire!"

A volley tore into the Doomclaws and a rat was partially castrated by a arrow and another was hit in the eye with another arrow. Seeing their comrades and in some cases family members, dying around them, the rats turned, drawing their long swords and howling.

"Okay, now push your shields out boys!" yelled a smiling Althalos, he had planned for this to happen. The greatswords the rats wielded her useless in close quarters, and that's when the short foot soldiers sword came into play. Hacking and slashing the legionnaires cleared enough space and pushed on, carving a wide open space riddled with dead rats. Hearing more yelling on the other side of the Doomclaw ranks the group fought to the center where they were joined by Crassus and the others. Smiling warmly the sable and the weasel shook hands heartily.

"Quit a tussle, eh?" said the young weasel " Zounds! Did you see that, a javelin nearly took me eye out!" Althalos laughed and replied

"Well then keep your eyes open and lead your troops!" The general sliced a barbarian throat open and stabbed a female in the chest.

"Zounds, did ya see the knockers on that one!" whistled Crassus, " I woulda paid a good price to be with her for one night. Ha! Shame she's a cannibal though." as he drove his sword through a rat's guts, spilling them everywhere.

Soon they were near the front line, covered in mostly blood, the pair and their respective charges spotted the massive rat, Rorthan. He was waving his massive axe in the air, swinging at soldiers and yelling like a madbeast. Frothing at the mouth he cut an arm off of a legionnaire and bit another in the cheek, tearing flesh from the poor soldiers eye socket to his snout. Althalos asked for cover and dove into the fray.

All the while, the Army of Deathbringers kept up a rousing chant

"Deathbringers, Kill, Kill, Killll !"

And the opposers roared too

"Doomclawsssss"

Althalos grabbed a javelin and threw it at a passing rat, then smashed another with his shield, breaking most of it's bones and killing it . In one fluid motion he beheaded a barbarian, then sweeped downwards slicing its chest open. Blood splattered the sables face as he rushed onwards towards the leader of the rats. All of a sudden a rat appeared before him. Locking swords together, the pair stared at each other. Althalos kicked the opposer in the groin, smashed his hilt into his forehead and stabbed him with a stilleto hidden from his belt repeatedly in the neck.

Yelling, the enraged sable sprinted towards the huge Rorthan. Smashing into him, the sable was dwarfed by the rat, which was a good head taller. The rat moved with surprising speed and smashed Althalos with a heavy hand, the sable flew into a tree stump. Yelling the rat charged but at the last second Althalos rose and rolled away. Rising, he turned. Althalos's vision was swimming but he still parried the heavy axe and blocked repeatedly. An arrow suddenly thudded into the rats footpaw, angrily the giant swatted the broken shaft and turned to see a shape hurtling towards him. Grunting, Althalos swung his sword across the rat's bare chest, spraying blood. Then he thrusted into Rorthran's stomach, but the blade was blocked by his axe at the last second and it only managed to scrape his rib cage. The rodent foolishly kicked at Althalos but his already injured footpaw was slashed in return. Grunting he locked blades with his enemy.

Paw to paw, eye to eye, blade to blade, whisker to whisked the two battled it out. The two struggling beasts were locked in mortal combat. Both knew that only one would survive. Eyes shaking in their sockets with anger, Althalos gave one more final thrust and the great rat's eyes widened as he finally met his match. Then the sable general sliced the cannibal's head off and roared at the prone form of his decapitated foe. Spitting on the body and wiping his blade clean. The warrior rose and howled

"Death to all who oppose The Empire of Zannn!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 :

The following hour the remaining rat horde was utterly decimated by The Deathbringers.

Hundreds of bodies littered the ground as the great general and hero to his troops, Althalos held up a spear with the head of the cannibal rat barbarian, Rothran on it. The head was covered in dried, clotted blood and the deceased rat's tongue lolled out, completely inflated and purple. Stepping on a pile of bodies the victorious leader raised his sword and shouted to his rallied troops

"To The Empire! Hurrah!"

He was echoed by hundreds of soldiers who also raised their weapons.

"Hurrah! Hurrah!"

Clinics rushed forth to aid the fallen and wounded and carried them away to the large tent that served as a hospital and surgery room. A female squirrel led a large group of clinics to help collect the wounded soldiers. It was not unusual for woodlanders to join the Army and it's many branches. Another score or so of soldiers gathered fallen comrades for burial. The female squirrel known as Treeswift came up to him.

"General, you are in need of medical help."

"No, I am alright, tend to the rest of them instead." He tried to move on but she stopped him. Speaking in a harsh tone, the same way one might scold a child she said,

"You need assistance, sire. Your injuries might be life threatening. These are my direct orders."

Althalos reluctantly allowed himself to be led to the army's surgery tent so his wounds can be tended to.

* * *

Far behind the Zannian lines, a chariot rumbled through the forest. It was heavily guarded and a dozen elite bodyguards protected it. The exterior was a deep yellow painted on wood paneling, blue undertones and gold trimmings. A single door was installed on to it with the Empire's standards decorating it. It also had two small, triangular flags depicting the Royal Family's personal standard and motto. A sword along with lightning bolts flying out of a thunder cloud. The saying inscribed on it said: Blood and Steel on a flowing banner.

The interior was even more lavish. Inside, the entire cabin was a deep royal purple and different shades of deep crimson accentuated this. Dozens of soft pillows, a container full of food and an assortment of fine wines and liquors filled the room. Soft yellow lighting flowed in through the small, high windows on the walls. Millions of dust motes flew around like moths and were being watched under the glowing eyes of Shroud.

He was a fox, a large fox in fact. Though he was not excessively muscular, the beast instead was lean and sinewy. Gold light bathed his silver fur so it appeared to be glowing. He wore the regal attire one would expect from a prince. But he took it a little far, his clothing was a show of splendour and extravagance. Lavish silks, soft furs and elegant materials covered the fox. A small crystal dagger hung from a necklace around his neck. Shroud's eyes were his most distinguishing feature though. They glowed like twin embers in a fire, flaring when he was angry.

Tail swishing through the thickly carpeted floor he watched as the dust motes floated upwards. His predatory eyes settled on a figure sitting nearby. It was Kayleen, his most trusted advisor and seer. Being very superstitious ,the fox chose her when he was younger as his advisor. Now he carefully watched her. She wore a simple cloak of muted reds and browns and earrings of snake fangs and dozens of bangles and rings decorated her paws. Burning incense filled the air with it's sweet, sickly smell where it intermingled with the perfumes of the chamber. Shroud's eyes twinkled as he finally broke the silence. He spoke with a voice similar to steel being scraped down a smooth, wet his voice and choice of words showed eloquence and a rich upbringing.

"Kayleen,why does the army despise me?"

"Your majesty," hissed the female rat "It seems that they only respect that sable, Althalos."

"Are you sure they shall support me in the next campaign ?" growled Shroud. But the rat chose to ignore him. Instead she shut her eyes tightly and breathed in the incense.

Angry now the fox repeated,

"Answer me now, rat! Can you not see who I am?" Finally Kayleen looked up and spoke,

"I cannot guarantee this sire, they are weary now and they need rest. I think we should return to the peninsula, then refresh the troops and start again.."

The enraged fox grabbed a bottle and threw it, spilling the contents.

"Stop speaking in riddles, rat. Nothing shall stand in my way. Ever since he was promoted, I've lived in the shadow of that son of a bitch, Althalos. I will have him killed!"

The seer nodded solemnly and rose, looking out the window

"We shall deal with the sable later, master. But now you must address the horde."

The carriage rocked to a halt and a Black Hand bodyguard opened the door.

"Sire, the army await." growled the ferret.

The Black Hand was the elite bodyguard unit of the royal family. Each was highly skilled and decorated. Most were imported from exotic lands for their special skills. The bodyguards wore black tunics instead of the regular red ones and had flowing purple capes hanging from their shoulders. Armed with long curved blades and spears the group was very skilled with various techniques that most did not know of. Some were armed with bows and kept watch, Shroud noticed a otter wielding a massive yew longbow perched in a tree and a stoat equipped with a crossbow. The Black Hand also doubled as a spying unit for covert operations as well.

Steps were placed in front of the raised doorway so the prince would not have to jump into the muddy ground. He was joined by The Black Hand's elite captain, a lizard by the name of Crom Risalth. He was a large leopard lizard. The reptilian had been recruited from the warm tropical regions south of The Zannian Peninsula. His dry, mottled yellow-brown skin rasped against his robes. His flat reptilian eyes studied his master. Shroud was clearly brooding. The shadows of the midday sun cast deeply onto the fox's face. The lizard adjusted his cutlass and spoke with a dry hiss sounding like dead leaves scraping against each other. He always lengthened his 's' when he spoke.

"Ssssire, the battle wasss a sssuccess . We have won yet again in the honor of you my emperor and the Empire."

They continued walking and then the fox said,

"Yes, my lizard. The victory will be well received back home."

The bodyguard nodded and continued walking. Soon they reached the camp and they joined the emperor.

Shroud smiled when he saw that Althalos was nowhere to be seen. He walked to his cabin and readied himself for the feast.

* * *

A vixen by the name of Riven was the one of the higher ranking nurses of the army. She wore a stained apron which was previously white, but now splattered with blood and other bodily fluids, and a plain green knee length gold earrings decorated her and she was very beautiful, the entire time she flirted shamelessly with Althalos. She replaced the old, stained apron for a clean one. Her lush, russet fur and breasts brushed against the sable's head as she tied a bandage around the warriors skull and applied a poultice to several cuts on his chest.

Eyes twinkling the vixen complemented the general's muscular chest and arms and sat on his lap and whispered in his ear.

"We can' go up to my tent if ye likes sire, I have a comfortable bed with plenty of space." Althalos smile wolfishly at the lustful vixen and returned the flirtation. He had always had a weakness for women.

"Aye marm, I would certainly like that. But save your affection for tonight. I shall be seeing your beauty soon enough."

Their exchange was cut short by a nurse calling the fox's name.

"Riven, we have more men coming in and we have an urgent injuries. A archer has been partially disembowled and some of the others have missing limbs." Nodding, the fox reluctantly left the company of Althalos.

But before they departed the pair made plans to meet that night. Althalos grinned at the guards nearby who congratulated him.

"Nice catch sire." said a weasel

"Nice catch indeed, general. " added a rat guard.

Still smiling the sable headed to his tent. It was near the emperors and was very comfortable. Inside was a large assortment of pillows on a simple bed of mats, laden with soft furs and silks. The room had a rack of weapons on the far side and a sack of food and several bottles of fine Zannian wine in another side. This was the lavish life a high ranking officer earned. Compared to his old life as a blacksmith's apprentice this was like a paradise. Althalos settled down to rest and produced a bottle of aged whiskey. The spirits were very well aged and had a slightly sweet tang to them. Pouring the drink into a tall tumbler. The sable also took out a chunk of cheese and some raisins. He had naught taken a sip when a shadow outside the door called his name.

"General, the Emperor wants to speak with you."

"Alright, I'm coming. Just give me a minute."

Putting the tumbler down he took a long sip and put on his ceremonial attire and sword. The sable emerged wearing a chainmail vest with a deep crimson tunic and a flowing red cape. At his belt hung a long curved cutlass in a snakeskin belt.

Walking towards a high hillock he was greeted by the emperor with his rat seer. Along with several bodyguards and that eerie looking lizard. The general relaxed and smiled when he saw Crassus joining them. But his good mood was encumbered by a glare from Shroud. He wore a white robe and tunic and a beautiful, gold and diamond encrusted crown sat on his head. All stood to attention as the emperor addressed Althalos.

Shroud secretly loathed the sable but did not let it show.

"Althalos, you were admirable out on the field today. As you probably know, I was there watching. And I must say I am very impressed. That was some top notch fighting. From you and Crassus" The two in question smiled again. "The gods must have been very generous to you my general."

Shroud was quaking with anger and tried to speed up the process.

"General, we shall honor you as soon as we return to the capital. A glorious feast and games shall be held in my honor."

His seer continued for him . She winked at Shroud and smiled deviously.

"Althalos your service is almost complete. You have only one more campaign." Then she turned and left to her lodgings.

Crassus smirked at the general. Watching the receding form of the sable, Shroud's eyes glowed hot and a vein rippled and squirmed on his forehead as he ground his sharp, white teeth. He barked at Crom, his bodyguard.

"Bring me Kayleen, I need to speak to the seer. Be swift, lizard!"

"Yesss, sssire. Crom will do asss you wisssh."

The reptilian saluted and slunk away, disappearing like a shadow in the darkness.

Crassus spat and walked away to the mess, his stomach growling, it was dinner time.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

That night, a foul mood hung from the king's tent, the villainous fox Shroud was brooding again. He raked his devious mind and sat in deep thought. Sitting in his throne room, two female ferrets tended to his needs, one of them constantly replenished his chalice of wine and another massaged his feet. A final servant, this time a female mouse cleaned up a pool of blood in the carpet. A dead rat had a long spear protruding from his chest. The poor beast had spilled a single drop of elderberry wine on his master's impeccable purple vest, when he attempted to clean it he only succeeded in widening the stain, the fox king had grabbed the rat's paw and snapped several fingers in a vice grip. Then he kicked out and sent it sprawling. When the beast attempted to run away a spear flew through his chest and out his back instantly slaying him.

The seer was then called. Kayleen hobbled in, supporting herself with a ashen pole with markings running up and down the shaft, a raven skull decorated the top as well. The elderly rat knelt and kissed the fox's hand, a sign of respect. With a heavy sigh the king said,

"I want the sable dead, he has the favour of the army. I crave more treasure my seer, I need their loyalty."

The rat looked up and spoke.

"Is assasination a choice sire?"

The fox knew this was a test, as the rat often asked these questions. But still he entertained it, he had always loved questions and puzzles. As a child he had learned to favor cunning over strength. He had murdered his elder brother when he was twelve seasons old, drowning him in the family pool. Even as a child he knew that his brother was bound to take the throne when his father died, so he said it was an accident. As an adult he grew wiser and more cunning and sly and still had his love for enigmas and puzzles.

Before replying he kicked the servants out,

"No, rat. The sable cannot be killed. He is far too loved by his soldiers."

"Then we can make them hate him."

The king enquired,

"But how? They only will detest him if they find him guilty of a crime."

"Such as…"

"Such as, treason! Eureka, I have found it. The army will no longer support him if they think he is a traitor. Then I can have a lieutenant who is loyal to me become general. I will have unlimited power in the army and no one shall suspect it."

Kayleen smiled and added,

"We must fake a document, we have his writing samples from battle reports. I shall start forging it immediately sire"

But before she left he grabbed her throat and whispered,

"But no beast must know about this, Kayleen. This must be between the two of us my seer. If I find out you betrayed me I shall frame you as well and have you tortured and killed."

He let her go and she took no time running away as the fox watched her receding form. He would have revenge soon enough, the gods have been generous indeed. Calling for his chalice to be refilled and his pillows be fluffed he reclined and still smiling his dangerous smile, the fox dreamt of bloody murder.

* * *

That same night most of the fighters retired to their small, standard issue tents and ate their rations. Strict discipline was enforced and all were made to polish weapons, prepare their beds and be ready for the long march south in a few days. The majority of the horde then sat around large fires and ate and talked, some tended to wounds and others simply went to bed for a well earned rest.

The sable general left the company of the emperor and walked away. It was a clear night, not a cloud was in the sky. The moon was half full and was bone white. Although the snow stopped, the wind did not. Hugging his cloak to his body, Althalos headed uphill to the clinics tents.

He walked over to the tent of the vixen Riven, her tent was rather small but comfortable looking. A warm inviting glow radiated out of the lodging and warmed him slightly. Almost immediately the wind cut into the exposed flesh of his face and paws. Shivering, the sable called out the fox,

"Riven, open up. My whiskers'll freeze off if I stay out any longer."

A shadow appeared and moved over to the tent flap.

"Hold on, I'm coming right now." The vixen quickly opened the tent and pulled him in.

Riven's tent was softly lit with lanterns and a two glasses of wine were set on a rush mat. They drank and spoke of their past's and a fish was brought out and shared along with a plate of fruit.

They ate and sat together. Then when they ran out of things to say the vixen took off the thin, silk nightgown she was wearing and revealed her underwear. The sable took it as an invitation and did the same. Extinguishing the lanterns, the pair slid under the covers and tied the tent flaps together.

The orgasmic sounds coming from the tent were muffled by the howling wind. When they were finished the two sat back in the bed and drank some more. Comfortably intoxicated, Althalos slept soon after. The sable was sweating and had goosebumps on his flesh from the wind.

Spotting the faint traces of dawn, he slid up, put on his clothes and whispered goodbye to the vixen. She mumbled something but he did not hear it.

As soon as he stepped outside a pair of rough hands grabbed him. He recognized that thick, musky smell in the air. It was Crom Risalth. He was accompanied by two other guards, a rat and a stoat. Instinctively, Althalos struggled and attempted to reach for his sword, but the leopard lizard held fast. Whispering in his ear the lizard hissed.

"You are under arressst, sssable. You are hereby guilty of treassson."

"What did I do?" he struggled some more.

"Ssstop flailing about, sssable. We know of your plot to asssassinate the emperor and sssell plansss to the enemy. The mighty Shroud has ssspoken."

Althalos sensed another beast approaching, the unmistakable stench of perfumes hung in the air. It was Shroud himself. The sable snarled,

"Speak of the devil, what evidence do you have against me, you bastard." He loaded the last word with enough venom to subdue an elephant.

Holding up a scroll with writing scrawled on it, the fox just bared his teeth, his eyes flaring and barked.

"My bodyguards took the liberty of examining every commander's quarters and we found this; a letter asking a barbarian for treasure in exchange for battle plans. That is evidence enough , traitor."

"You planted that you coward! I always knew you hated me." retorted the sable

"Don't make me laugh, scum. Instead of screwing about with petty whores," pointing at Riven's tent, "Maybe you should have thought of the consequences of betraying me instead."

Incredulous, Althalos spoke,

"I hope you burn in hell, you fucking coward. I hope that-" Crom's paw slapped onto his mouth stopping him from speaking.

Shroud kicked him savagely in the face until his lip was torn and he had a black eye.

"Enough of you, you filthy son of a bitch. Crom, I want him executed. Take him to the forest, march 'till you reach a clearing. I want him to suffer, take your time lizard, then bring me his head on a stick!"

With that the fox, turned and stalked away. His plan had worked, none could stand in the way of Shroud. The silver furred fox sniggered the entire way to his tent. All the while, Crassus had followed the bodyguards as they dragged Althalos away, he readied his longbow for a rescue mission and silently crept after them.

* * *

They marched for several hours in the snowy forest, Althalos was bound and gagged as they marched him on the path. Three guards accompanied him, a ferret, an otter and Crom himself.

The ropes around his paws cut into this flesh and removed fur. Three times he had fallen flat on his face, mud forced it's way into his mouth and he was unable to wipe it off. The bodyguards had laughed each time and tried to trip him with their spears.

The wind had died down a little but still was dreadfully cold, but mercifully they allowed the sable to keep his tough tunic on, but his chainmail and cape along with all his weapons were removed before they left camp.

To warm themselves, the ferret, named Ripclaw passed a bottle of whiskey with the otter.

Crom refused to drink the aged spirits and instead took out a tiny bottle of his own. It contained a murky, yellow looking liquid that must have been purely alcohol. The smell alone was slightly intoxicating but the lizard took a long, deep sip. Draining the small bottle he chucked it the side of the road.

"That'ssss called Dark Ale, boysss. Sssstraight from my homeland, pure alcohol with ssome lemongrass an' lime insside. Makess you a man." Hissed the reptile in his peculiar accent.

"Pshhh, that stuffs nothin', no flavour. Rubbish I say, 'tis nothin' compared to whiskey." Replied Dewfang, the otter.

The two beasts snarled at each other, swearing.

But before a fight broke out, the ferret pointed to a natural clearing nearby.

Althalos broke into a cold sweat, his eyes looked around everywhere for a weapon or even just a way to escape. He hoped against hope they would at least make it a quick death. But he knew he was doomed, he heard the fox say that it should be a long, bloody demise.

He had never been that much of a saint, ready to be executed, now the sense of certain death hung over his head. It was nothing like a fight, in battle he always had a weapon, or at least his paws and teeth. But here he was as helpless as a babe. They could kill him as slowly as they liked. His feverish eyes stared at the pouch Crom carried on his side. It bulged with countless torture devices.

The lizard reached in his pack and drew a long,dull blade. His tormentor's smiled as the lizard hissed,

"How will you ssspeak liess and backsstab you own sssoldiers. Ssell lies and whissper evil if you no longer have a tongue?"

Ripfang added, "Aye, you traitor. We''ll cut your eyes out. In fact it's what we'll be doing soon." He sniggered.

The otter then said,

"Right, we'll torture your useless hide if you lie to us. Or you could tell us the truth and all will be good and pretty like."

The sable knew they were lying, he filled with courage and snarled,

"Go to hell you motherfu-" A slice from Crom's knife to the forehead silenced him.

"Hold hisss head up Dewfang, I'm going to ssslice his throat. Vein by vein, you'll bleed to death you bassstard."

An arrow suddenly thudded into Crom's shoulder and he fell. Two more smashed into the ferret, one lodged deep into his skull and the other in his thigh. A shadow flew from the treeline and bowled the otter over, the Black Hand guard was well trained but fumbled with his blade. His slowness was punished with a slash to the throat and another to the stomach. The otter attempted to shovel his insides back into his body but collapsed as the life ebbed out of him.

The form who saved him seemed to be an angel, Althalos was in awe but soon recognized the reddish coat and short stature.

"Crassus! What the hell are you doing here?" exclaimed the sable.

"Zounds, did they hit your head or something mate? What am I doing here? I'm rescuing you, you fool." He said as he sliced the bonds holding his friend with a dagger.

"Won't you be punished, you'll suffer the same fate as me. Now you won't be general mate."

The sable stood and rubbed his sore paws and packed snow on the deep cut the lizard had given him.

"No, that bastard Vizk got the promotion. Don't ask me why, so when I heard you were gonna be executed on account of high treason, I did some snooping and figured you was innocent."

"So you'll quit the army just to help me?" asked the sable.

"Never really liked the lieutenant thing, hate taking orders too. So I guess were both deserters?"

"If you say so."

"Well then we better be ready for some swashbucklin' adventure mate. Crassus and Althalos the bandits. Zounds, think of all the women we'll get, dashing fellas always get the women dontcha know."

Laughing, the two grabbed some weapons of the dead bodyguards and pilfered their ration packs. They set off to the south, far from the the camp. Singing jauntily and waving spears and swords about they trod off to meet their destinies.

* * *

Crom rose slowly, an arrow was embedded deeply into his shoulder, He could feel the tip scraping painfully across his bone and the barbs tearing his flesh. Grimacing he removed the arrow and cleaned the wound. Resting for several minutes he started trailing the two escapees.

Their tracks were going to be easy to follow, the fools had left their footsteps and didn't bother masking their scents, the smell of sable and weasel wafted upwind to the lizard.

Grinning deviously, the evil leopard lizard stalked his prey, he would have their heads and feast on their bodies. None could stop the fierce reptile as he methodically hunted his prey.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Althalos and Crassus walked for a long while through the dense forest of evergreens and pines. Fortunately their pawsteps were covered by a fresh blanket of snow. They noticed the light hands of sundown in the sky. The sunset was spectacular, a mixture of deep hues filled the sky.

Honey, deep orange, crimson,royal purple and bright pink tinged with dark blue brushed the sun as it dipped below the horizon.

"We better find some shelter, and fast. The sun is setting and were running out of food real quick mate." Noted Althalos.

"Aye, we should find a nice, sheltered spot. Think we got far enough from camp, so we can go look for some vittles." replied the weasel.

"Alright, I'll start doing some foraging and you can look fer some shelter."

The sable grabbed his spear and walked into the bushes. Crassus walked in the opposite direction of his friend.

When the sun had set fully, they regrouped at the road and showed each other what they found.

Althalos held out a pawful of half frozen berries, a three tiny sparrow eggs and a dead thrush that was half frozen and disemboweled. His companion spat and shook his head in disgust.

"Zounds, I ain't eating that lot, might as well chew on some bark. I also bet them eggs have gone bad."

Indignant, Althalos replied.

"Well, did you find anywhere to sleep? Or a shelter, or did ye just sit on your tail and wait for me to do all the work?"

"Matter of fact, I did find us a nice camping area, not too far off. If you mind, I'll lead the way."

They tramped a couple hundred feet to a natural clearing. It was well sheltered and some mats were placed under a rock overhang. Thick amounts of pine needles formed beds and some firewood was placed next to the makeshift bunks.

Crassus stood proudly next to his achievement and struck a pose.

"Well, if it isn't good 'ol Crassus, saving the day again."

"Don't rub it in you fool." replied Althalos

"First I rescue you from certain death, then I save you from freezing to death out in the cold. And how do you repay me? By giving me a couple measly eggs, frozen berries and a dead bird."

"Stop whining you idiot, I'll admit I could of done better but you don't have to be a bitch about it."

Satisfied he had won the argument, the weasel started piling up dead leaves and bark as tinder and soon had a good fire going.

After they warmed themselves, the two thawed the berries and fried the eggs on a piece of bark. The dead bird was thrown in the fire as it had no use. Leaning back, the sable asked.

"So what's the plan now?"

Crassus opened one eye and answered,

"The plan? The plan is to go far away from here mate. We get on a boat, sign up to be pirates and sail the high seas." he chuckled, gnawing on a piece of egg.

"Be serious for once." Althalos grumbled.

"Why yes, sir. We join a monastery and become celibate."

"Well then, I just guess I'll do the planning here. We go and change our names, move far away and become pirates, join a searat galley. Or even better we move to the Lands on Ice and Snow."

"Well, sounds like a plan my general." said the weasel "But I have a better idea, why don't we catch up on some rest? You take first watch. Wake me up in a couple hours."

Without waiting for an answer he fell into his bunk and was fast asleep. Althalos grabbed a spear and kept watch for the night.

* * *

Crom slinked into the ditch on the side of the trail. Tail swishing, he reared his muscular head into the air, sniffing for his prey.

He fondled his sharp cutlass, the two escapees had not counted on being followed so soon. But Crom watched the weasel sleep, oh how he hated the beast. Quivering with anticipation, he imagined sinking his razor sharp claws into it's flesh. He was a cannibal by nature, food was abundant in the army, but his recent hunger, coupled with his mood had made him bloodthirsty.

He readied his weapon as he went over his plan of attack once more. He would have his retribution and his feast.

* * *

Althalos glanced boredly around, he was starting to loathe his position. A painful knot had developed in the base of his neck and the tattered tunic he was wearing did little to protect him from the cold, night air. His eyes kept staring at the path they just came from, he was expecting to see a group of soldiers to come crashing through the brush, ready to slay him. The moon cast shadows from the dead trees and made the sable imagine seeing figures.

He pulled his spear and dagger closer to his body as he watched the road, he thought he saw a creature for a second. Laughing weakly he sheathed his dagger once more. The cold and his lack of sleep were making him go crazy. It was almost time for Crassus to take watch.

He plodded over to his sleeping friend and whispered,

"Crassus, wake up."

No reply,

"Wake up, it's your turn to take watch mate," This time he shook his friend.

No reply,

Growing exasperated he said,

" This isn't the time to be joking Crassus."

Still no reply.

Each time he was left unanswered the sable grew more and more angry. He finally turned his comrade over and fell backwards in shock.

Crassus was slain, his throat was cut open and his eyes were torn out. Althalos's paws were sticky and under the firelight he saw his paw was slick with blood and bodily fluids. When he had turned Crassus open, he accidentaly touched his guts. The deceased weasel's intestines covered his body in such a way that they formed an 'X' on his chest and stomach. Althalos's eyes bugged as he stared, dumbfounded at the butchering. This type of death was common with deserters in the army, the sables sharp mind quickly pieced the puzzle together, and only one word hung clear in the murky confusion of his mind. Crom. Shaking with rage he planned his revenge.

But before he could do a thing he heard a distinct whistling sound. Instinctively, after years of military training and experience the sable ducked quickly. A sharp blade cut through the air his head had been milliseconds ago, it only succeeded in grazing his ears and severing some hairs.

Crom cursed as he missed the swing, his sword's momentum made him unbalanced and swung him off his feet. Unable to stop himself he smashed into the rocky wall. Althalos rose and picked up his spear. The quick throw missed the lizards head by mere centimeters and lay, quivering in a drift of snow.

Althalos dove and grabbed his fallen companion's short sword. Crom steadied himself and grabbed his cutlass once more.

Both beasts stared at each other. The lizard broke the silence.

"I look forward to your death, sssable. I will be feasssting on your remainsss, deserter."

"You vile bastard, I'm going to kill you and your master with my bare paws." spat Althalos

Roaring, the two charged at each other.

Althalos came up strong, he swung low, aiming to slice the lizards legs and bring him down. He was parried and his foe attempted the same thing.

Their steel clashed in the moonlight, glinting and whistling through the frigid air.

The sable succeeded on slicing the bodyguards already injured shoulder and got a spray of blood from it. Smiling, he attempted to use the reptile's weak spot as much as possible. Crom, in retaliation parried and blocked the blows. The constant blocking with the heavier cutlass was wearing the sable down slowly. He was dully aware of a numbing in his sword arm and only sped up his attacks.

Crom snarled and kicked out, sending Althalos sprawling. In a flash, he was upon the sable like a wraith. Althalos kicked upwards into his enemy's stomach and clawed with his footpaws. Long, raking lines appeared on the lizards abdomen and he was dealt a strong blow to the snout. Crom Risalth wisely jumped off the sable and tongued his loose teeth, he clawed Althalos deeply across the chest.

"Die ssssable!"

The former general locked his blade with Crom and swung downwards, then up and sent the blade flying through the air. It glittered and spun in a circle and landed next to the fire. He raised his sword and readied to finish off the reptile. But the Black Hand chief had a trick up his sleeve. Grabbing a handful of mud he threw it at Althalos's face, temporarily blinding him. Scurrying to his cutlass, Crom rose and charged once more. This time the sable was ready, he tripped him again and leapt on the lizard. They wrestled about on the snowy floor and with the leopard lizard on top again they drove their blades into each other. The lizards eyes widened in pain and shock and as the sword found a home in his lungs. Fortunately the lizards blade had not dealt a killing blow to Althalos, instead it had missed, but just barely.

Kicking the body off of him, the sable clutched his broken ribs and groaned. Crom on the other hand was drowning slowly in his own blood. Some dribbled out of his nose and mouth but he was still alive. His feeble claws open and closed repeatedly, as if he was reaching for life.. Althalos watched his foe slowly succumb to his wounds as his reptilian eyes glazed over and whispered,

"Tell the devil Althalos sent you, you bastard,"

With that said, the sable promptly passed out.


End file.
